


she told me her love is like the dollar

by reas_of_sunshine



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Bittersweet, Commitment, Contracts, Emotions, F/M, Fluff, Honesty, One Shot, Unconventional Relationship, you may ask how those two things walk hand in hand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 22:10:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15034385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reas_of_sunshine/pseuds/reas_of_sunshine
Summary: It's always a good idea to go over the terms and conditions of a contract. And modify, discuss and explain them, if need be.





	she told me her love is like the dollar

**Author's Note:**

> title is a lyric from "ringer" by the unlikely candidates which is v much a scroldie bop
> 
> anYWAY DT17 Goldie. hmmph. she's something else indeed sO OBVIOUSLY I HAD TO DO SOMETHING WITH THAT. and i am a sucker for happy endings. i was determined to find out a way for these two to give the happy ending i want them to have.

“I know, coming in through the window, _so rude_ ,”

Her voice rang through the office like a bell, the cadence soft and charming and cool. She plopped down, her boots covered in mud and ancient jewels in desperate need of shining hung around her neck, softly clinking.

Scrooge dropped his pen, smearing his signature on a check, before simply staring at her.

“You really oughta update that security system, Scroogey,” Goldie said. “And get a new guard. That nanny of yours is too easy to distract—you know who I miss? Duckworth. That old dog could really put up a fight,” She plopped down into a chair, red and plush with velvet, and untied her hiking boots. “You don’t mind, do you?”

He was still at a loss for words for a good moment or so, before he blubbered out, “What are ye up to, O’Gilt?”

“You can’t ask me that yet, you haven’t insulted me first,” she pouted. Like she was genuinely distressed.

It was their thing, after all. Playful banter. Flirting. Maybe an inappropriate joke or two. Then the questions.

Scrooge seemed to be cutting straight to the chase this time around.

“Someone’s more of a tight wad than usual,” she grumbled, kicking off her boots and ruffling through her pockets to hold out a letter envelope; a bit thick, maybe overstuffed, for it’s size.

Scrooge’s confusion only rose and he tilted his head, as if he was unamused.

Goldie waved the envelope and asked, “You love a good deal, don’t you, moneybags?”

“That all depends on who’s makin’ tha deal and what it’s ‘bout,” he retorted. He held out his hand, beckoning her over. “And considering it’s you of all folks,”

As she walked over to him, Goldie gasped and placed the envelope over her heart. “You wound me,”

Scrooge rolled his eyes. “And ye’re wasting me time,”

“Oh, but you love it,”

“Time is money,”

Goldie harrumphed out a ‘fine’ before breaking the seal of the envelope and unfurling a modest stack of papers. “I have a proposal for you,” she declared. “Quite literally, in fact. But no bells and whistles. No sentiment, no frills. Just you, me and some good ole fashioned business. What say you?”

If Scrooge had felt surprised before, he was most certainly floored here. Had he not been sitting down, he most likely would have fainted.

“Goldie?” he mumbled. “Can ye please try ta make me understand here?”

“My gosh, I know you’re getting old, didn’t think you were getting daft too,” she said.

She held out the papers, flopping them onto his mahogany desk. The title read _McDuck-O’Gilt Union, by Order of the City of Duckburg_. Union. A formal word for a heartfelt connection.

“I met a lawyer in Macaw who did this for cheap,” Goldie went on.

“Ae donnae care how ye got it done,” Scrooge grumbled. “Why?”

Goldie softened up a bit. She took off the heavy necklaces she wore, placing them on his desk, and then untied her hair from the tight bun it was in—waves of gold cascading down her shoulders and falling elegantly so. The afternoon sunlight made her look… heavenly. Not quite an angel, she was the farthest thing from that, but she certainly was divine.

Her eyes, green as deep forests and rare emeralds, practically glimmered when she looked at him.

He was completely and utterly done for.

And in a way, so was she. She only smiled softly for him. Only considered a deal like this for him. And he was the only one she kept circling back to.

“I’m not done running, Scroogey,” she admitted. “But I’d like a home. Someone to come home to every now and then,”

“A-and?” The word hesitated, danced, tumbled off his tongue.

Goldie managed a curt smile. “And you are the closest thing to home a rolling stone like myself has ever had,” she said. “And I love you, you penny-pinching, crabby, stubborn old coot,”

She accented her words with a playful wink and that was enough to get Scrooge to go over the contract.

A contract to consummate their love.

How ridiculous. How formal. How perfect for them.

“Alright,” he sighed out.

And he began to read.

 _This legal document and all of it’s conditions entail the formal union and settlement between Goldie O’Gilt and Scrooge McDuck_ was the opening line. He raised his eyebrows at her, and she waved a hand, as if to say ‘keep going’ and so he followed her silent command.

He looked closely. He inspected every word. Anything that could trap him, that could con him…

...and came up dry.

And all he found was a thousand different ways for Goldie to promise she wouldn’t take ownership of anything he had. Didn’t ask for a single cent of his money. No share in the company.

“Ae still cannae believe ye donnae have an angle,” he grumbled.

“Look, Scrooge,” Goldie sighed. “We’re not the marrying type, are we?” His groan was enough of an answer for her—and she hopped up onto his desk to sit on it. “But I say we aren’t getting any younger and you know me; I take what’s mine,”

Scrooge was tempted to throw the papers behind him, into the shredder. “Since when was Ae ever yours?” he grumbled.

Goldie frowned. “This is me trying,” she admitted. “Trying to promise to you I won’t leave for good anymore. Because I’m not the one that got away. I’m the one you can’t hold onto,” She slid the papers a little closer to him. “This is your in. This is the only way I know how,”

“Goldie—”

“Article four, clause ninety-four,”

“What?”

She tapped the paper. “Just read it,”

Scrooge pouted, flipping back to the paper and skimming it to find the line she was referring to.

_This union is only in legality. Ms. O’Gilt will not take permanent residence at any of Mr. McDuck’s properties, nor take his name or request any funds. Ms. O’Gilt is under no obligation to stay and Mr. McDuck cannot question her whereabouts and actions. This union dictates and cements the union of Ms. O’Gilt and Mr. McDuck._

“This is ridiculous,” Scrooge spat.

“Oh, what?” Goldie snapped. “I’m being fair, aren’t I?”

Scrooge threw the contract back to her. “Ae donnae want paper wasted, Goldie. Ae want what’s in yer heart, Ae want yer word and tha’s something Ae doubt ye’ll give me,”

She clumsily caught the papers before they fluttered to the floor and stared at him.

But the words she uttered surprised him. “Alright,”

“Wha—”

He watched filter through the papers, taking out most of the legal jargon. She crumpled them up and tossed them in the wastebasket adjacent to his desk, leaving only the first and last pages of the contract. The introduction and the ending. Nothing in between. Nothing in their way.

She plucked a pen from the side of the desk, and a piece of scrap paper in between them.

She shook the pen, not minding the ink that bled onto her feathers, and began to scribble, reading aloud as she wrote.

“I, Goldie O’Gilt, cannot make a promise to stay. I can, however, make the promise to love the one and only Scrooge McDuck, because that’s all I have done. I know,” She stammered and her hands shook, almost dropping the pen. “That I don’t always act like it. That he has every right to be doubtful. But that he shouldn’t be. I promise to visit. To be loyal… as much as I can be, in my own way,”

“And what way is that?” Scrooge said. Not in a frustrated grumble.

But rather, in a soft, almost pained tone of voice.

Goldie’s hand shook, making a mark on the paper, a trail to the bottom.

“You know I haven’t been with anyone else, right?” she muttered, her gaze going from the paper to him. “I can’t find anyone else who outsmarts me. Infuriates me. Anyone else who,”

She trailed off.

And somehow, that said enough.

Her unspoken words hung in the air. And Scrooge heard all of them.

“Ye really got a contract made up,” he huffed. “Instead of jes’ proposing?”

Goldie managed a hesitant smile. “You and I both know we can’t do a wedding. First off, you’re too busy. Second, well, given some jobs I had before I met you, I can’t wear a white dress. And a ring would fall off in all my adventures,” She sighed, fiddling with her necklace. “And I just don’t do domesticity like you do,”

Scrooge scoffed, almost offended at her remark. “ _Ae am not domestic!_ ”

The single arched eyebrow she gave him said enough.

“Well, maybe jes’ a bit. It’s good ta have order, y’know. Cannae live the vagabond lifestyle forever,” he muttered.

“Maybe I can,” she retorted. “And maybe, one day, when I can’t anymore, I’ll come back for good,”

Scrooge’s hand trembled when she rested hers on top.

He managed a weary smile. “Ae happily await that day, Goldie,” he sighed.

And so, they sat there like that for a moment, basking in afternoon sunlight, the two of them. Holding hands. Perhaps one of the softest, serene moments they had in a long while. This was what it came down to for them.

Finding a way.

For they always did.

They found a way to find lost treasures. To somehow get out of any situation. To explore the world and conquer and become legends, alone and together.

They both silently wished they could figure each other out better.

But if this was all they ever had…

...well, that would be enough.

“Alright, ye’ve made yer conditions,” Scrooge mumbled, turning away and refusing to notice Goldie had been leaning in for a kiss. He grabbed a pen, let go of her hand, and uncapped it. “Now, let me make my own. Jes’ one or two. Ae’ll keep it modest,”

Goldie held out the scrap paper to him.

And he quickly scribbled something onto him, pressing the papers before she could notice.

She was puzzled by that, but she furrowed her brow when he dug through his desk.

“C’mere,” he said softly. “Give me that necklace of yers,”

The pendant rested heavily over her heart for many decades now. Protecting her in any situation and keeping her spry and young. She didn’t take it off for anything or for anyone.

But Scrooge McDuck was not just anyone.

Goldie gently unclasped the necklace, holding it out. And she watched as he slid something onto the string, letting it hang right beside the ancient amulet that kept her safe. It was nothing fancy, nothing that looked special or of much worth.

Just a simple copper band that had probably seen better days.

“Ae donnae think ye’ll lose this ring, will ye?” he asked.

“Too cheap to buy me one?” she said, half joking, but too busy to actually think of a comeback as she stared at the very clearly old ring.

Scrooge smiled. “It was mae mother’s. Was mae sister’s too, but,” He trailed off and Goldie nodded.

“I quite liked her. I might have married you just to have her as a sister-in-law,”

Her joke was half-hearted. She had no energy for sarcasm and snark when sentiment was draped over both of them like a warm blanket. It was a familiar, but also rather foreign, feeling. Goldie traced her fingers over the copper band before she put her necklace back on and now? Now two important things rested over her heart and kept her safe.

Ancient power to keep her safe.

And a sign of her dearest love as a reminder to keep going.

“Ae suppose now ye’ll want me to sign this silly contract?” Scrooge grinned.

Goldie’s signature smirk came back full force. “Hey, I paid that penguin a good chunk of change. I’d like to get my money’s worth,”

With a playful shake of his head, Scrooge scribbled out his famous signature on the final paper.

And handed the pen to his most beloved, who signed her name quickly and with a flourish.

They both couldn’t help but glance down at the paper. The paper that now redefined their relationship — for it had changed, been warped and broken and repaired many times over the years — for the better. A paper that cemented things.

Scrooge fondly smiled at how Goldie still cutely dotted her i’s with stars, and he blushed when she leaned in to kiss his whisker covered cheek.

“Now, was that so hard?” she murmured.

He shook his head, and then opened his mouth to say something.

Perhaps something soft and sweet and loving.

But alas, his phone beeped with a timer. “My three o’clock,”

“Have fun in that stuffy office,” Goldie laughed, with a salute. “And do what you will with all this treasure,” She gestured to the baubles, jewels and gold she dropped onto his desk. “I can’t carry it with me, I’m on my way to South Africa. There’s some ancient, probably cursed, Silver Scrolls hidden in the sand dunes,”

She stuffed the contract back into her vest and hopped off the desk, grabbing her muddy boots…

...and of course, going back out the way she came.

She sat on the windowsill, looked back to Scrooge, and just like always, how did she say ‘ _catch me if you can_ ’ and ‘ _i love you_ ’ all in one?

Well, Goldie blew him a kiss.

And she didn’t see Scrooge jokingly try to catch it.

But she did feel her phone vibrate in her pocket as she began to walk off the mansion’s property.

 ** _‘check contract’_** read the text, from Scrooge, no less.

Goldie pouted, digging back into her vest. “What did you do, McDuck?” she grumbled, almost-but-not-quite echoing his words from earlier.

She instantly flipped to their impromptu page, and skimmed for something out of the ordinary.

And hit the final line of the page.

_This contract is nothing but poppycock and you are lucky that I’ll always love you no matter what. Stay safe. And come home first chance you get._

“Noted,” she said, her voice almost choked up. But not quite. Not for him. “You stupid old sourdough,”

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was made possible by comments like you!
> 
> ~reagan


End file.
